Missing Pieces
by eidheann
Summary: In the 10 years since the Battle of Hogwarts, Harry and Draco had remained happily away from each others' company. However, things change... - incomplete


**Title:** Missing Pieces 1/?  
**Author:** eidheann  
**Rating:** PG  
**Word Count:** ~1500 (this part)  
**Summary:** In the 10 years since the Battle of Hogwarts, Harry and Draco had remained happily away from each others' company. However, things change...  
**Warnings:** not anticipating any  
**A/N:** Self-proofread, but no beta/britpicker. Also appears on my livejournal at eidheann_writes

"Potter! Weasley! My office! NOW!"

Harry frowned at the orange memo now folding back into itself and falling to the ground as Head Auror Robards' bellow faded to a ringing in his ears. Orange meant urgency, and nothing pressing had crossed him in weeks.

"What do you think he wants?" Ron's voice came from the desk beside him, and Harry looked up to see him regarding the memo with a similar expression. "We've been on desk duty for the past month, and we're not _that_far behind in paperwork."

Harry spared a glance at his desk, covered in cups of old tea, ragged quills, half-completed reports and files stamped with TO CLOSE on the front. Ron's wasn't much better. "Only one way to find out," he sighed, pushing his chair back from the desk. "Come on. We don't show up in a minute, he'll send a howler."

Ron snorted and hopped up from the chair, jogging to the door and opening it with a bow and a flourish of scarlet robes. "After you, partner mine. I went in first last time." The grin he returned at Harry's groan was laced with smug anticipation, as was the punch he returned to his partner's shoulder.

Two sharp raps to the thick door labeled _Head Auror Gawain Robards_, and an only slightly muffled "Enter!" reply saw Harry and Ron once more straight-faced and on best behavior. The fierce scowl on Robards' face gave Harry pause as he entered the scrupulously neat office, but he quickly made his way to one of the chairs facing the large desk.

"In! In! And shut the door behind you!" Robards voice had returned to it's normal bellow, and Harry felt his shoulders relax slightly. At the click of the door behind him, Harry felt the room close down as both strong locking and privacy spells engaged. He raised his eyebrows in surprise and glanced at Ron as he took a seat in the chair beside him.

"You called for us, Sir?" he asked after a moment of silence, watching Robards frown between the two of them and the lone file on his desk.

"Yes," he replied, running a large hand over his face and sparing one more glare at the file. "And a right pain in the arse it is, too. Minister wants this one done quick and quiet."

"Well, that explains the wards...?" Harry glanced apprehensively across the desk at the file and his head started to pound. He wondered if Robards' headache was catching or if it was simply a premonition on his part.

Robards muttered "you don't know the half of it," then continued with a more normal voice. "Missing person." He flipped the file around and slid it across the desk to Harry and Ron. The cover opened and pages began sorting themselves as they watched. A small blond child waved from the photograph on the left. "Scorpius Malfoy."

Harry's groan was echoed by the thump of Ron's head onto the desk.

The Greengrass-Malfoy divorce was the stuff of legend, at least the level of gossip it inspired. The marriage itself, indeed the previous 7 years, only saw three mentions of either family name in the Prophet. First the tastefully worded engagement announcement, buried in the Society pages. A year later, the marriage merited first mention, along with a picture of the pair, solemn and contained in formal robes. They were well-matched; Astoria Greengrass' heart-shaped face and honey coloring shining as a sun in counterpoint to the alabaster of Draco's moon-pale sharpness. Two years later, another announcement- the birth of the Malfoy heir, Scorpius. This time the picture showed life and heart, both parents smiling at the camera in brief moments between staring with obvious adoration at the small blue-wrapped bundle in Astoria's arms.

Those three clippings were held together with a minor sticking charm, separate from the stack of articles of the past year, which was nearly an inch deep and took up most of the space in the file.

The stack of clippings containing the details of the divorce was large, but the information wasn't terribly varied. First the rumor, complete with sketchy hand-drawn illustrations, that Draco had been having an affair. Then several witness statements that Astoria had been seen in the presence of certain members of the opposite gender late in the evening, and departing their homes early the next morning.

Next, names were brought into the picture. Draco was carrying on a torrid affair with Pansy Parkinson-Nott, stretching back to their time at Hogwarts. Astoria was heartbroken that she had never been first in her husband's heart. Of course, the counter was quickly printed that Astoria had been having an affair with Adrian Pucey, who had been in an off-and-on relationship with her older sister for the past three years.

From there, things went downhill until they became simply ridiculous. Draco wasn't just sleeping with Pansy, he was sleeping with Pansy and Blaise Zabini (with the bonus story that Pansy's marriage to Theodore Nott was also on death's door.) Astoria's relationship with Pucey was actually an incestuous _ménage à trois _with her sister as well. Draco buggered hippogryphs. Astoria hosted drunken orgies. Each story in the Prophet was followed religiously by those eager for gossip, and the families' solicitors fed on the rumors during the arguments like kneazles on cream, dragging the proceedings out for months.

Harry grimaced as he tossed the stack down onto his desk, wiping his hands on his robes to remove the faintly grimy feeling left on his fingers from just handling the papers.

"What do you make of it?" Ron asked, looking up from his own stack and fidgeting with his quill. He was surrounded by rolls of parchment Quick Quotes from the hearings.

"The Prophet should be burned and all the reporters trained that there's a difference between imagination and reality? This stuff is foul."

Ron snickered, "No arguments there, mate. Though... I'm surprised you haven't seen more of this before now. It's all anyone ever talks about now."

"You know I don't take the Prophet," Harry sighed. "This shite is why." Harry nudged the stack further away from him. "Their solicitors don't seem much better. And that poor kid growing up with all this going on around him..."

Ron sobered at that. "Yeah, reading through these... Most of those stories probably came from the lawyers." He paused, and Harry was unable to translate the expression on his face as he continued. "They were actually wrapping stuff up. The marriage contract was pretty specific. In case of separation, division of property, allowances, even custody was already set. Malfoy keeps everything except a flat in London and one in Paris, and gets custody of Scorpius. Astoria gets a month with him in the summer, weekends at request, and a pretty generous allowance until she remarries. It just ended up in court because of the infidelity clause..."

Harry raised an eyebrow, "Some sort of 'null and void if proof they were having an affair' bit? No wonder these stories in the Prophet are so rank..."

"Yeah, proof he's getting his rocks off elsewhere and she gets half his Gringott's vault, as well as full custody of Scorpius. Proof she's doing it, no allowance, no Paris, no London, no kid."

Harry gave a low whistle. "What was the decision, then?"

"That's the weird part," he pulled a parchment from the stack, looking at it. "Last appointment, Malfoy seems to have given up. After months of all this, he just says that he'll sign the agreement Astoria is presenting."

Harry couldn't keep his mouth from dropping open in shock. "Given up? _Malfoy?_Family is everything to them."

"I know... That's the weird part. But it says so right here..." Ron passed the parchment to Harry with a frown. "She either had real proof of something, not that Prophet stuff, or some other hold over him. But..." Ron trailed off, watching Harry with the early indecipherable expression.

"But what?"

"But..." he sighed and began to fidget, "No 'I told you so's' and I don't want a mention of sixth year, mate. But... I think Malfoy's up to something." He held up his hand to stop Harry's automatic comment. "I'm just saying... Next thing we hear, Astoria's reporting Scorpius missing and saying Malfoy's done it." He leaned in, voice dropping slightly. "He was going to lose his son in this thing, Harry. You said yourself that family is everything to them..." Ron trailed off. "It looks right pat."

"It... doesn't look good for him, no." Harry rubbed a hand through his hair and leaned back in his chair, staring at the ceiling. "Bugger... I think I hate Robards for giving us this. What a mess."


End file.
